


the afterlife

by mine_eyes_dazzle



Category: Holby City
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Scrub In 2018, the afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mine_eyes_dazzle/pseuds/mine_eyes_dazzle
Summary: Jasmine Burrows is dead. And when she imagined what the afterlife would look like, she never in a thousand years thought it would look like Holby City Hospital. Holby City Hospital filled with other dead people. But whatever. It's the afterlife, right?





	1. this is most definitley not heaven

_part one_

_this is most definitely not heaven_

* * *

The last five minutes of Jasmine Burrows’ life were a blur. She could quite clearly remember the corridor with Fran, the sudden switch, the push – the pain that had flooded through her and the overwhelming thought that, god, she was such an idiot for keeping the scalpel in her pocket. Her _pocket_. That had been covered in med school on day one. Don’t not put sharp objects into your pocket. It was pretty good advice for life in general to be honest. What an idiot.

And now here she was. There were flashes of memories as to what had happened after she had slipped onto the floor in the corridor. She had fallen between the two states of consciousness. Jasmine could remember the pain and the way she kept fighting against it, against the urge to sleep. And then she had been unable to resist any longer and now here she was. Heaven. Or maybe not.

It resembled, at least to Jasmine’s considerably addled brain, a surgical theatre. She was lying flat on what, if it had been real, would have been the operating table. She thought it was ironic, really, given that she had a vague recollection that she had been wheeled into surgery before she had slipped into the heavy hands of death. At least, she assumed this was death. There had been a moment when she had looked upwards and seen the living room of the first home she had ever lived in and her mother was there and Jac too and she had known, then, that this was the end.

Jasmine thought about all the things she had never quite managed to do and would never get the chance now, if this was it. Get married, have children, grow old. She’d always wanted to go to Australia, but she’d never had the money. She’d wanted to get a dog, have a family. Make things good with Jac. She’d thought they’d get there in time, but now she had no time.  

Jasmine sighed and slowly sat upwards. Once she was up, legs dangling from the metal table she had woken up on, she looked around. It certainly looked like a theatre but it definitely felt like she was dead. Just to check, her hands drifted to her side, where the scalpel had pierced her skin what felt like a lifetime ago. She spent a few moments, mind completely blank, when she could no longer find the wound that had left her bleeding in a hospital corridor. So this is death, she reasoned. A bloody operating theatre. Well, she always did care about her work too much. But what now? Was God, who she had never truly believed in and wouldn’t start at this late hour, make an appearance? Or was this purgatory – her and an empty room for the rest of time? Or was there something else? This? What this was she wasn’t quite sure.  

Jasmine was about to stand up when the sound of a door opening came from behind her. She hadn’t expected anyone else, or anything else, to be present with her. The thought made her shiver, setting her on edge as to what she would find if she turned around. She fought the urge to swivel where she sat but in the end curiosity got the better of her. She frowned when the source of the noise became apparent to her: there were two women in the room with her now. One was a step or two into the room; young – either Jasmine’s age or slightly older – with a look of annoyance on her face. The other woman was older, with a maternal look to her, softer to the first woman’s sharper edges. Jasmine had seen neither of these women before, not even a glimpse in a corridor, not even a flicker of recognition.

‘Hi,’ the first woman said. Jasmine had the strange feeling she had interrupted an argument between them. The first woman was stood awkwardly, almost scowling but not quite and the second woman had her arms folded in a matronly fashion, observing. Jasmine closed her eyes, unable quite to compute what was going on. She must have just been left in the theatre, surviving the operation. These two women must be staff, cleaning maybe. Even in her own head, her reasoning fell down. She knew patients weren’t just left in the theatre. It also didn’t explain where her wound had gone or why she knew she hadn’t just come round form anaesthetic.

‘I was stabbed,’ Jasmine said. Speaking felt strange, the words laboured and difficult to form in her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure as to why they were the first words to leave her mouth. Why not ask what was going on, or who they were? No, just ‘I was stabbed,’ running through her read again and again until the words themselves had escaped, hanging heavily on her shoulders.  

‘Yeah. Hurt’s like a bitch, am I right?’ The first woman had spoken again, grimacing as the words left her mouth. Of all the things she had expected, Jasmine hadn’t been counting on wordless acceptance, not one whisper of medical assistance or worry. Jasmine still didn’t understand what was going on. There was a dullness to her surroundings, everything slightly out of focus.

‘It’s okay.’ The first woman again, smiling gently this time, the scowling beginning to fade, her face softening. ‘Don’t worry, everyone finds it difficult at first.’ Jasmine turned her head to the side. She folded her hands over the side of the metal table, telling herself over and over again in her head that this must be a dream, this must be a dream. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Jasmine,’ she managed to stutter out through a mouth that clearly didn’t not want to speak.

‘I’m Maddy,’ the woman said in reply, ‘and welcome to the afterlife.’      
   

 

 


	2. coming to terms

_coming to terms_

* * *

The afterlife? The afterlife? This, in front of her now – the operating theatre and two random women she hadn’t a clue who were – was the afterlife? Maddy, hadn’t she called herself? Who introduced themselves in the afterlife? Of all the times (and there hadn’t been all too many) when Jasmine had considered what waited on the other side, this certainly wasn’t it.

She took a few small steps backwards, her head spinning, unable to quite get her head around what was going on. Now it was clear to her that the worst case scenario was actually true and she was dead. All those missed opportunities, all the things she was never going to get to do. Her legs suddenly felt shaky under her and the woman – Maddy – reached out a hand to steady her. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, ‘most people can’t deal with it to begin with.’

The second woman, still arms folded in the doorway finally spoke. Jasmine was too busy focusing on the fact that she had a Liverpudlian accent that she almost missed the words themselves. ‘I remember you being terrible, Maddy. I think you cried.’

Maddy threw the older woman a dirty glance and the Liverpudlian smirked and shook her head. Maddy turned back to her and ushered her to a seat, back on the metal table she had woken up on. Jasmine felt unsteady and things all were beginning to get too much. The world was spinning, or at least she thought it was, and she had a strange sense that none of this was really happening to her at all, but to a stranger.

Maddy sat next to her on the table. The other woman was still by the doorway. ‘What happened?’ Maddy asked. Jasmine took a moment to compute the words, staring down at her feet swinging gently in front of her. ‘I mean, how did you end up here? You said you were stabbed.’

‘There was a scalpel in my pocket. I fell-- I was pushed.’ Jasmine shook her head. ‘That’s the last thing I properly remember.’

Maddy and the other woman – still nameless, but watching them closely – were nodding their own heads alongside her explanation.

‘I was stabbed too,’ Maddy said. ‘Bitch stabbed me in the back in the toilets.’

‘Mine was a car crash,’ the woman by the door said. ‘But anyhow, now we're all here. You’re probably wondering where exactly here is.’

Jasmine didn’t quite trust her voice so she just nodded. So these two women were dead too? But why a hospital? And why these two women, who she had never known in life. She thought you were supposed to be reunited with your loved ones on the other side, not strangers.

‘We haven’t quite worked it out ourselves,’ Maddy said, ‘and we’ve been here a while, but as far as we can tell you can say hello to Holby City Hospital.’

It was the Liverpudlian’s turn to confuse her next, voice calm and controlled - as if this was just a stroll in the park.

‘I take it you worked there? Doctor or nurse?’

Jasmine was once again confounded. This was Holby? Why was the afterlife the hospital she had only worked at a year? What was special about it, and how did these two women know it was the hospital. Unable to say much more, she said, ‘Doctor,’ and that seemed exhausting.

Maddy nodded. ‘Me too. Tricia here was a nurse. Everyone here worked at this hospital.’

‘Everyone?’ Jasmine echoed. This was really getting ridiculous.

Maddy nodded. ‘There’s a handful of us. All dead of course,’ she said, far too breezily for Jasmine’s liking.

‘How are you so calm about this?’ Jasmine asked.

‘We’ve both been here a while,’ Tricia said from the doorway. Jasmine could still see the maternal edges to the woman who seemed only there to supervise. ‘Eight, ten years.’

‘And you both worked at Holby?’ They both nodded. ‘You’re both dead?’ Again the both nodded. ’And I’m dead too?’ she asked quietly. The magnitude of her words weren’t lost on the women around her. Maddy gave her a sad smile and Tricia looked as if she wanted to reach out a hand in comfort.

‘Yes, love,’ Tricia said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’ll take you some time to get used to the idea,’ Maddy said. ‘I know I was crap at the whole dying thing.’

Jasmine took the moment to close her eyes and breathe out deeply. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why here? Why me?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘We don’t know, any of us. But it is what it is.’

‘I can’t deal with this,’ Jasmine said, standing suddenly. Maddy next to her reached out a hand but she shrugged it off. ‘I can’t do this. This is mental.’ She pushed past the table and towards a door she had spotted on her initial study of the room. She heard the murmur of heightened voices behind her as she stumbled through the door.

Jasmine was spat through into a corridor lined with doors on all sides. She didn’t stop and think about her choice, but instead dived head first into a further do, just opposite the one she had come through. There was a sense of fear, now, that either Maddy or Tricia would find her after her grand escape. Then what would they do? Drag her away?

On the other side of the door, she found herself frowning. Though it looked slightly different, Jasmine would have bet money that she now found herself standing in the corridor near to the main doors to Keller, people bustling past.

‘Help me,’ she said to a porter wheeling a bed next to her, but the man ignored her and continued on down the hall. She repeated herself again but once more no one seemed to hear. She reached out to snag the arm of a passing woman, dressed in scrubs that Jasmine didn’t recognise, a light green colour that she had never seen around the hospital during her time working there. As her hand reached the woman’s arm, it fell through, intangible and not for the first time today Jasmine wondered what on earth was going on.

She heard the sound of a door opening behind her but didn’t turn. The woman whose arm Jasmine had been unable to grab had opened a newspaper that proudly displayed the date: 26th May 2009. Eight years before.

She turned as Maddy came and stood behind her. In her surprised, Jasmine couldn’t think of what question to ask. Oh, this was crazy. A second Maddy – not, of course, the one standing next to her, but a different one – began to walk towards them, dressed sharply in a suit and heels. And then everything really went mental.

‘Welcome to the day I died.’           

      

  


       

 

 


	3. the big question (AKA, does this mean they’re ghosts?)

_the big question (AKA, does this mean they’re ghosts?)_

* * *

 Jasmine thought she had this madhouse covered. Yes, she was dead, trapped in the hospital she had worked at with other dead people who had worked at this hospital. That she might have been able to get her head around. But now she was watching down the Keller corridor as silently as a ghost.

And then there was Maddy’s comment. If this was the day she had died, how were they here? What on earth was going on? Jasmine thought things were bad enough, but this was taking the biscuit.

‘This, right now, what you are seeing – this is the day I died,’ Maddy said. ‘There I am, strutting around, oblivious that I never get to see tomorrow.’ Maddy pointed down the corridor, at the other version of herself that was striding towards them, smart suit, smart shoes, looking every part the professional woman.

‘I know it’s difficult,’ she said, quietly. ‘This whole being dead thing. All those dreams for the future, all the things you’re never going to get to do. It’s hard, believe me, I know,’ she continued, as Maddy Two headed towards them. Jasmine was surprised to see such a marked difference between the two women, despite being one and the same. Maddy Two, the still living, breathing one (if Jasmine understood the situation at all, which she wasn’t entirely sure she did) seemed much sharper, much more put together. The other Maddy still had the same edges, but she seemed more relaxed, less guard-up than the other. Jasmine guessed that was what death did to a woman.

‘We don’t have to stay,’ Maddy said. Jasmine turned to look at her.

‘How does it happen?’ Jasmine asked. Immediately, she hastened to add, ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ aware that might be too painful for the other woman to recall.

‘I don’t mind. We’re about to see it anyway.’ As Maddy finished speaking, Maddy Two reached them, turning off and passing through a doorway next to the one that Jasmine and Maddy One had stumbled through. They followed her through the bathroom door and found themselves in the toilets, Maddy Two splashing water onto her face. The Maddy standing next to Jasmine had her face set in  grim acceptance, as if she had been here and watched this enough times, after of course having lived through it to begin with.

Maddy Two straightened up. The other Maddy closed her eyes, counting down three, two, one. The door opened and another woman appeared. Jasmine and Maddy One could see the knife in her hand even if Maddy Two was oblivious.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Maddy Two said, as the woman drew the knife forward and stabbed her in between her ribs.

Jasmine looked away just as the woman who had just stabbed Maddy fled out of the door. She raised her eyes and met the gaze of Maddy One, who was staring at her own prone body on the floor.

‘When I was dying, lying right there, I had this, I guess it was a dream, of the perfect day. I survived this, I got the promotion I wanted, I got the man I had always loved. And then I woken up, and Tricia was there and I knew that it was all over.’ Jasmine didn’t quite know what to say. Maddy seemed stuck in her melancholic mood, ruminating in all the things she had lost. ‘So I know what it’s like, Jasmine,’ she said, finally looking up. ‘I really do.’

‘Why?’ Jasmine asked. ‘Why can you come back here? To the day you died?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘We all can. You will too, if you want. It took me ages to work up the strength to come back here, to relieve it. But we all have a door, a window back into reality.’

‘Can we leave now? Jasmine asked. On the ground, Maddy Two was still dying, her last ragged breaths setting Jasmine on edge. The other Maddy, the one who had already died, lead the way in silence. Once they went through the door, Jasmine leant up against the wall and said, ‘Where’s my door?’ She turned to see what she hadn’t when she had stumbled through the door to Maddy’s death day – Maddy’s name, written in gold lettering embossed on the door.

‘Down there,’ Maddy said, pointing down the corridor.

‘The woman who stabbed you,’ Jasmine said, somewhat wary, ‘why did she do it?’

Maddy shrugged once again, leaning up against the wall. ‘She was my sister’s cellmate in prison. I made her angry. She wanted revenge.’

Jasmine wasn’t quite sure what to say. She thought about her own death – a very strange concept to get her head around, but she managed it – and Fran’s hands on her, pushing her away, the rush of adrenaline, the pain coursing through her body, the realisation she hadn’t taken the scalpel out of her pocket. She knew that she, like Maddy, would need to take some time before revisiting that particular moment.

‘Do you get more? Or just you dying, again and again and again?’ Jasmine asked, the words feeling strange in her mouth. The world – was the afterlife really a world? – around them seemed not to follow any rules that made sense. Why allow them to revisit the day they die time and again? Where was the use in that?

‘You get the whole day. Twenty-four hours,’ Maddy said.

‘You get to see people, you know, finding out?’ Jasmine asked.

Maddy nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said, but didn’t add anymore. They both knew that it was a difficult concept – watching people you knew finding out that you were dead. Again, it was something Jasmine was sure she wouldn’t be able to face anytime soon.

‘And what’s the point?’

Once more, Maddy shrugged. ‘Acceptance?’ Her gaze had fallen on a door at the end of the corridor and Jasmine followed her. This door was different, there was no name written on it and it looked sturdier, firmer, than the others.

‘What’s that door?’ Jasmine asked.

‘Wouldn’t we all like to know,’ Maddy said, leaning against the wall. ‘It’s locked. Only certain people can go through.’

‘Certain people? Like who?’

‘I think,’ Maddy said, ‘it’s time for you to meet Diane.’

 

 

 


	4. Diane and the door

_Diane and the door_

* * *

 Maddy led her back though the operating theatre that Jasmine had woken up in. They walked down a twisty corridor and it opened up into a space with chairs and tables, and Jasmine instantly recognised it as the canteen from the hospital. Tricia, the woman she had met briefly earlier, was sitting at one of the tables, deep in conversation with a third woman. It was towards these two that she followed. Maddy slipped into a seat next to Tricia, leaving Jasmine to stand awkwardly, wondering what an earth was going on.

The conversation had died, ha ha, on Maddy and Jasmine’s arrival and the two other women looked up at her. Tricia seemed just as concerned as she had earlier and raised an arm to rest it on Jasmine’s.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, and all Jasmine could summon the ability to do was nod in reply. She wasn’t entirely sure she was fine, what with the whole having just died thing, but it was far too difficult to explain.

‘She went through my door,’ Maddy said. ‘She wanted to know about the one at the end of the corridor. I told her that the best person to talk to about it would be you, Diane.’ Maddy was focusing on the third woman, the one Jasmine didn’t know. So this was the Diane that Maddy had mentioned back in the corridor.

The woman in question looked a similar age to that of Maddy and Jasmine, early thirties maybe, and Jasmine was struck by the thought that here they were, three women all who had died so early in life. There was also something else about Diane; sorrow seem to cling to her skin, an air of resignation and acceptance. She had sad eyes, Jasmine decided, watching the woman across the table.

‘You’ve been through the door, the last one?’’ Jasmine asked. The other woman nodded slowly. ‘What’s on the other side?’

Diane looked down at her hands and then up at Jasmine. ‘You get to see that life goes on.’

‘What does that mean?’ Jasmine asked.

Diane didn’t seem inclined to say anymore. It was there in her sad eyes – a story that Jasmine didn’t have a window into, was just a spectator to.

Eventually, Diane shrugged. ‘I only know what I saw on the other side. And that was that life goes on.’ She looked uncomfortable talking about it, Jasmine thought. She wondered what would happen if she were allowed through the door. What did ‘life going on’ look like? Jasmine wasn’t quite sure.

‘Have you met everyone?’ Diane asked quietly. They were all aware she was changing the subject, but no one mentioned it.

‘No, she hasn’t,’ Maddy said. ‘Just me and Tricia.’

‘Everyone?’ Jasmine echoed.

Tricia turned to her and smiled. ‘Well then,’ she said, ‘I think it’s about time.’

* * *

 

Diane led the way, Maddy and Tricia trailing a little behind. They left the canteen and took a right, past a facsimile of Keller Ward, hidden behind glass windows. Jasmine let her eyes linger too long and she began to see things that weren’t quite right about it. Never again would she step foot there. She was still struggling with this whole being dead thing.

‘Did you all know each other before?’ Jasmine asked. ‘Before you died, I mean.’

Maddy was the first to speak. ‘I started working at the hospital not long before Diane died.’ She nodded towards the woman she was referencing, who was in front of them by a little way now. ‘You weren’t long gone though were you, Tricia?’

Tricia shook her head. ‘But Diane and I, we go back a fair way. I didn’t know everyone, but you’ll meet them soon enough.’

Jasmine nodded her head slowly. ‘Do you mind I ask how she died?’ They came to a turning and no one replied for a long moment and Jasmine wondered if she had put her foot in it.

‘Diane you mean?’ Tricia asked before adding, ‘Maddy’s best to explain, I wasn’t there.’

Jasmine turned to look at Maddy. The other woman looked as if she was struggling slightly with the request.

‘Her car got hit by a train,’ she said, eventually. ‘But there was a hoo-ha at the funeral. Someone said she’d killed herself.’ Maddy paused, then shrugged. ‘So who knows. None of us have ever asked her. We’re all cowards.’

Jasmine took a moment to take in the information. She had known there was a story there, behind the sad eyes. Maybe this was it? She was about to say something when she heard Tricia muttering under her breath.

‘Bloody Ric sticking his oar in,’ she said. ‘Should have just let her rest in peace.’

‘Ric?’ Jasmine said. ‘Ric Griffin?’

‘Don’t tell me he’s still at the hospital?’ Tricia said. The surprise in her voice caught the attention of Diane, who was still ahead of them, and she turned back.

‘Who’s still at the hospital?’

‘Jasmine here says Ric’s still at Holby,’ Tricia said.

There was something, a flicker, across Diane’s face as Tricia spoke. ‘Is he okay?’

Jasmine shrugged. They had stopped walking now, and everyone was looking at her. She felt somewhat awkward – she and Mr Griffin, as she had called him, had never been on the best of terms. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

Diane’s eyes had lifted slightly from the sadness that had seemed to make its home there. There was a spark of happiness now and Jasmine wondered what she had been to Ric Griffin.

Jasmine had, of course, heard the hospital gossip about the man – what was it, six ex-wives and enough children to field an eleven-a-side football team? She took most it with a pinch of salt, but she was sure he certainly had a chequered past when it came to women. Where did Diane come into this history? And was this why Jasmine had a hard time reconciling the man she had known with the man of the rumours – a lothario to rival the very best.

It took Jasmine a moment to realise that the group had begun moving again and she hurried to catch up. Diane had sped off in front again, and Jasmine took the moment to ask.

‘How did she know Mr Griffin – Ric?’

It was Tricia who answered. ‘They were in love with each other.’

‘So,’ Jasmine said, ‘an ex-wife?’

Tricia shook her head. ‘No. But that’s a story for another time. We’re here, love.’

As Tricia had talked, Diane had disappeared through a set of double doors that they now passed through. On the other side, Jasmine recognised features of the Keller and AAU staff rooms, mixed into one huge room. There were three people in here. Far from thinking that she wouldn't have had a clue who they were, Jasmine found herself recognising two of the faces.

Sitting in the staff room were Morven’s dead husband and Ollie’s dead sister. Faces only seen under the cover of glass, photographs frozen in time.

Oh, this was going to be fun.                 

 


	5. and then she met the rest

_and then she met the rest_

* * *

 

Jasmine had seen photographs of Arthur Digby. She knew, of course, about what had happened to him. Morven would sometimes talk about him and Jasmine would wonder how you got over the death of someone you cared about as much as that. She felt glad that she had left no one behind. There was Jac, certainly, but she had been without a sister for so long already – what would this change, really? Jasmine knew she was being flippant but she found it too difficult otherwise.

  
She thought about Diane, about this past of Mr Griffin’s she had never considered. What about Maddy? Had she left behind someone she loved? Was there someone out there grieving over her? And Tricia too? Were there children, longing for a mother would never come home?

Once again, Jasmine was glad in a way she had been taken so early. There was no one really to miss her.  
But back to Arthur Digby. He was the first face she had recognised in the room, sitting facing her, talking amiably to the person next to him. He looked just as she had imagined him when Morven had told her the stories: geeky but with a kind face. Knowing Morven as she had, she could see why they had been so suited.

  
The woman sitting next to Arthur was harder for Jasmine to place, and it took her a moment to realise who it was. Who had first told her about Penny Valentine, Jasmine was unclear, but she knew that by the time she had Ollie had been m a few drinks under the table, she already knew about his sister, dead in an accident a few years before. Ollie had shown her a picture, she couldn’t quite remember when, but there was a hazy memory of a face – the face now sitting across the room from her.

  
There was another man in the room, older than both Penny and Arthur, and than Jasmine herself. He looked world-weary, with tired, hang-dog eyes. Even from a distance, she could hear the rumble of a Scottish accent and she knew that unless there was a strange quirk in the upbringing of the Valentines or if Morven had failed to mention her dead husband had been Scottish when she had told Jasmine virtually everything else, it was from the other man.

  
It was this man who was the first to see them, gesturing to his companions. They all turned to look and fell silent on seeing the four of them by the door.

  
‘Hello,’ he says, answering her question, though there wasn’t much of a question about it, as to whom the Scottish accent belonged. ‘A new face?’ he said, directing the question more at Maddy beside her than at Jasmine herself.

  
‘I’m Jasmine,’ she said, perfectly comfortable talking for herself rather than being talked about.

  
‘What did for you?’ Penny asked. There was only a hint of Oliver in her face – if Jasmine had not known that she was talking to his sister, there would be little to make her guess at such a conclusion.

  
‘Stabbing.’

  
‘Ouch,’ went the chorus. Jasmine just shrugged. She was finding the whole situation rather hard at that moment. It had been okay with Maddy and Tricia and to an extent Diane, but after finding out about Diane’s history with Mr Griffin and now seeing two faces that she recognised, she was more coming to realise that this wasn’t just a fever dream, that this was real.

  
And if this was real it meant one thing. She actually was dead after all.

  
Tricia, standing her left, gave her a little nudge. ‘You okay?’ she said, quietly.

  
‘I’ve been better,’ Jasmine said, before laughing and shaking her head.

  
Tricia put a hand on her arm and said, ‘Come with me.’ The older woman began leading her away from the group crowded around the table, calling over her shoulder as she went. ‘Stop gawping.’

  
Jasmine looked over her shoulder. Diane had sat next to Penny while Maddy had slotted in next to the Scottish man, whose name she was still unaware of. She wondered how they could remain so calm in the face of it. They were all dead, all unable to lead the lives that had once seemed so simple. Jasmine felt dizzy as Tricia sat her down into an armchair.

  
‘I’d offer you a brew, but…’ Tricia said, making Jasmine smile a little. ‘It’s all a bit much, right?’ Mute, Jasmine nodded. ‘Your head’s full of all the things you’re never going to get to do, all the people you didn’t get to say goodbye to. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but everyone here knows how you’re feeling. We’ve all left people behind.’

  
‘Who did you leave behind?’ Jasmine wasn’t going to say anything, just give another mute nod, but the curiosity got the better of her.  
Tricia gave a sad smile. ‘My husband, Mark. My daughter, Chrissie.’ Tricia shrugged.

  
‘Chrissie?’ Jasmine couldn’t help but let the words escape. ‘As in Chrissie Williams?’

  
Chrissie was what Jasmine would call a Holby Legend. She knew, as all good gossips did, about her past with Sacha Levy, but also about her chequered romantic history. Despite having left the hospital some time before, Chrissie Williams was still fertile gossip territory.

  
Tricia smiled to herself. ‘She’s certainly got a reputation for herself, I’ll give you that.’ The smiled began to turn more introspective as the moments passed. ‘She’s not back at Holby, is she?’ Tricia asked.

  
Jasmine shook her head.

  
‘That’s good,’ Tricia said, more to herself than to Jasmine. ‘That place was never good for her.’

  
‘Was it good for any of us?’ Jasmine said, looking around. ‘We’re all dead, after all.’

  
Tricia looked up at her. ‘It gets better.’

  
‘And then we get to see that life goes on?’ Jasmine thought back to what Diane had said to them about the door, about what lay behind it. Maybe that was the point of this place, coming to terms with what had happened. Diane had done that, perhaps even before she had arrived, given what Maddy and Tricia had said about her death. Jasmine looked across at the others, still talking amongst themselves.

  
‘What’s his name?’ she asked. Tricia had yet to respond to her question, and she figured maybe it wasn’t a topic she wanted to talk about.

  
‘Who?’

  
‘The Scot. The other two, I recognise them. But not the Scot.’

  
‘Oh, that’s Linden.’

  
Jasmine thought for a moment. Everyone had a name now, though not all of them had a story yet. She thought about Maddy, dying on the floor of the Keller toilets, dreaming her perfect day. Of Tricia and her car crash, Penny and Arthur and the people they had left behind. And Diane, with her car in front of the train, waiting or not waiting for oblivion and reaching it anyway.

  
She thought about herself, and scalpels in pockets and Fran, in front of her, arms on shoulders, falling, falling, falling.

  
‘And then we find out life goes on,’ Jasmine muttered to herself , thinking that maybe, the afterlife might not be as bad as she thought.


	6. friendships forged in the afterlife are for life, right?

* * *

_part two_

  
_friendships forged in the afterlife are for life, right?_

* * *

  
  
Jasmine had never anticipated that she would begin to find herself, if not happy, then close to that, in the afterlife. She had been dead quite some time now and those faces that had greeted her once she had awoken had become, well – they had become like friends.

  
Jasmine and Maddy, in particular, had become close. They were similar in age and personality and would often spend time talking. Jasmine would inform her of what had happened in the hospital since her absence and in turn Maddy would fill her in on people and situations Jasmine had only heard about through gossip.

  
The others would be cordial and kind. Tricia was like a second mother to the group, the oldest in what was a quite a young bunch. Diane, though a similar age to that of Jasmine and Maddy seemed much older, though Jasmine spoke to her about the hospital of old too – but she always got the same sense that the other woman was one of sadness, rather than Maddy, who was bubbly and sarcastic.

  
She had talked with the both of them about Jac. To begin with, she had not revealed the familial connection, but once they had begun talking about Lord Byrne and the scandal that Jasmine had only ever heard of in gossip (Diane had been there when it had all unfolded, Maddy too), she had said, ‘She’s different now,’ and Diane and Maddy had both laughed.

  
‘The woman was an ice cold bitch, take it from me,’ Diane had said. Maddy had nodded along.

  
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Jasmine had replied, ‘she’s still cold, but you know, she’s getting better.’

  
‘Why are you defending Jac Naylor the robot?’ Maddy had asked quizzically.

  
Jasmine had taken a deep breath and thought, now or never.  
‘She’s my sister.’

  
Both of them had been surprised to say the least, but after the initial shock and explanation, both of them (who had sisters of their own, one dead and one estranged) hadn’t seem to treat her any different, and they had continued their burgeoning friendships.

  
On the other hand, Jasmine had distanced herself from Penny to begin with, feeling awkward about Ollie. After one memorable conversation (Penny had guessed at the root cause and Jasmine had gone a rather strange shade of red at what they’d discussed afterwards), Jasmine had found that she liked both of the Valentine siblings, alive and dead.

Arthur was, well, just as Jasmine had expected him to be. They had spent some time talking about Morven, once it was established that she had lived with her. Even from the first sentence, Jasmine had seen why they had been so perfect for each other.

  
Linden was more difficult. He was a taciturn character, of few and carefully selected words. The only one who could get him to speak freely seemed to be Maddy, who it seemed had known him in life as well as in death.

  
But it was Maddy she had fallen in with. Jasmine wondered if it was because of that first day, when she’d stumbled through the door without checking and ended up on Keller, watching Maddy bleed out in the toilets. That was something that could bond two people, wasn’t it?

  
The first time Jasmine had gone through her own door, Maddy had accompanied her. They’d stood in the hallway, watched silently as the living version of her talked and breathed and confronted Fran. She hadn’t wanted to watch, but she thought that it was something that she should face.

  
Jasmine had looked away once she had seen her own palm come away from her side covered in blood and said, ‘I want to go now,’ and they had headed back through the door. She’d been back a few times now, had made it to the end, prone on the operating table, time of death called out into the air. It had taken her even longer to make it to the afterwards, to the reactions, and she’d yet to find and watch Jac in the aftermath. Jasmine wasn’t quite ready for that, even after so much time.

* * *

  
She had convinced herself that now was the best moment for it, hovering in the hallway, the doors spreading out around her like an earthquake from the fault. Jac she would find – in her office, perhaps, or on the ward – and she would force herself to stay and watch and finally know if she had received the message that she had left that fateful day.

  
And so that was why she was stood on the thin carpet, alone – Maddy had wanted to come for support, but Jasmine had known it was something that she had to do herself. And anyway, there was a part of her that knew some of Maddy’s interest was to see the so-called ice-cold bitch she had once worked with crack.

  
It was she reached out for the door handle, breathing deeply and steeling herself for what lay ahead, that she began to realise something was wrong.

  
The carpet underneath her feet began to warp away from her, stretching strangely towards the room next to her.

  
She turned around – the rest of the corridor seemed fine, apart from the wall next to her. Jasmine heard the sound of a door opening and heard the clamour of voices, tight in whisper. When she’d swivelled, she saw Tricia, half out of the door that lead to the staffroom where they tended to congregate, and Maddy beside her, shuffling her feet.

  
‘What’s going on?’ Jasmine called and the two women turned to look at her.

  
Maddy and Tricia glanced at each other and eventually Tricia spoke.  
‘It’s happening again.’

  
‘What is?’

  
‘We’re getting someone new,’ Maddy said. ‘The wall goes weird like that. Getting ready for a new door. You can feel it, in the air, too. You get used to it.’

  
Jasmine looked at the door again.

‘Who?’

  
‘That’s the question,’ Tricia said. ‘Would you like to come and welcome someone to this mad world?’

  
Jasmine considered the offer, but there was a feeling, in her chest, that whoever it was – she was going to know them. It hadn’t been long since her own death, and now there was another one.  
‘Not Jac,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Please don’t be Jac.’ She wouldn’t be able to deal with it if it was her sister. There had to be one of them left, didn’t there? ‘I think I’ll wait here,’ she said in the end.

  
The others both nodded. ‘See you then,’ Tricia said, heading back through the door, Maddy following behind, not before flashing Jasmine a reassuring smile.

  
Jasmine took a deep breath once they were gone. The carpet was still strange under her feet but as she began to walk away, back towards the staffroom, the wall seemed to collapse into itself.

Jasmine turned back. Next to her own door, her name written on the front, so final, there was now another door. She felt caught, not wanted to know whose name she would find, but knowing she would have to discover at some point.

  
She took a few steps forward and the name came into view. Raf Di Luca, gold lettering spiralling away.


	7. what is it with Holby City Hospital and dead people?

_what is it with Holby City Hospital and dead people?_

* * *

 

As far as Jasmine Burrows was aware, in the past twenty years Holby City Hospital had been the scene of at least four deadly car crashes, two terrible fires (one that gutted the ED), a spate of psychotic murders, a crossbow attack ('A crossbow?' Jasmine had questioned, but everyone had just nodded), and now, to top it all off, there had been a shooting.

  
Jasmine herself was not the first to hear the story, for Maddy and Tricia had found Raffaello Di Lucca bewildered and afraid in the lift far before she had made it back to the staffroom. But she had been there when they had brought him in, still ever so slightly shaking. For a moment, Jasmine didn't quite know what to do. She had met everyone else after death, but Raf Di Lucca - she had known him in reality, in life. And now here he was, gone the same way she had.

  
He told the story quietly, enraptured faces staring up at him. Jasmine wondered how he was taking it all so well, but then she heard about how there was a shooter stalking the hospital and she realised that it hadn't been what you'd call an ordinary day in Holby.

  
She remained quiet for most of his talk, but it wasn't until she realised he had been informed about the doors at a far earlier and in a far less confusing way than she had that she spoke up. Raf had just turned to Maddy, standing at his left shoulder, eyes set, and said, 'I need to go through that door.'

  
'If you go through the door, I'm going with you.' She and Raf had never been what you would call close. They had known each other, sure - they had worked at the same hospital for a year, had friends in common, that sort of thing. But he turned to look at her and Jasmine knew then that he found it just as hard to look at her as she found it to look at him. They had known each other in life, he saw her and was reminded of her funeral, perhaps, or the newspaper articles with her face emblazoned on the front.

  
Jasmine also knew that he was well aware as why she wanted to go with him. If there had been a shooter at Holby City Hospital, Raf may not have been the only victim.

* * *

  
She should not have gone with Raf. It took Jasmine about zero-point-three seconds to realise this. They went through the door and entered into the lift. Before the stench of fear that seemed to cling to the walls hit her, it was the sense of the familiar that made her realise her choice, made on the hoof, was perhaps not the best one. She had been through her own door, yes, but this was different - this was the future, the one she had never got to see.

  
Once she had managed to compartmentalise the sense of dread that rose in her stomach from that particular realisation, she turned and saw Raf, twice over, in the lift beside her. There was the one who had come through the door with her added to the dying Raf, lying slumped at their feet, desperately leaving his last message.

  
Jasmine turned away. This was not her moment, was never her moment. Tricia and Diane had told Raf that now was not the time to go through the door, but he’d been set. Jasmine should have told him that it was not something to do lightly, but she’d been too fixed on getting through, on finding out if everyone she cared about had made it. She thought that their non-presence in the afterlife meant that Jac, Morven - anyone in fact - could not be dead, but she had a rising fear, a panic if you will, that it meant nothing at all. There were far worse things than death that could happen if you were shot, Jasmine had been a doctor, she knew that at least.

  
Raf didn't move. Either of them. Jasmine knew that it had happened - he had seen the moment the light had fallen away from his eyes, slackening of the muscles. Both she and Raf had seen death daily, they could count the signs. Jasmine knew from experience that seeing those signs on your own face was something you could never wipe away. It had taken her four trips alone to make it past that moment in her own story.

  
Jasmine put her hand on Raf's arm. 'I'm just going to...' She said, trailing off.

  
'Essie,' he muttered. She saw him fiddling with a wedding ring. That, certainly, had been something she'd missed and she tried to hide a little of her shock. It made it far more awful, Jasmine knew that though. It also made her realise that she wasn't the only one who need to see for themselves if a loved one had made it out of the hospital alive. Raf had his wife to think about.

  
They had to wait for the lift to be found before they could step outside. Jasmine didn't watch as Sacha Levy and another man entered the life, horror obvious in their faces, turning away. Raf was still transfixed.

  
She let it sink in for a moment. The hospital around her felt just as realas it had been when she had slumped to the ground, that damn scalpel in her pocket, so very long ago now. But if she reached out, tried to touch the wall, tried to scream to Sasha Levy or to anyone, she knew that, really, she wasn't part of this world anymore.

  
Raf was still trying to absorb his surroundings, eyes glued tight to himself on the floor. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know him well enough to be of any comfort. The worry had set hard in her stomach now. Where was Jac? Where was Morven? But she knew one thing. She was dead. Jasmine Burrows was dead.

She looked down at her hand and frowned. There was a key resting in the palm of her hand.   
  
  



	8. the survivors

the survivors

* * *

Jasmine didn't have all too long to study the key that had appeared in her hand. Raf had careered off down the corridor, eyes wide and body tense. She knew the panic he must be feeling, the painful knot in the chest. That was of course because she had been there, done that, seen her own dying moments.

   
She folded her palm over the key and followed him.

* * *

  
They stumbled upon Jac somewhat by accident. Raf was blinding running away, unable to come to terms with what he had just seen. Jasmine knew she had to reach him, anchor him to the reality - that wasn't, however counterintuitive it felt, the world around them. But he was faster than her and it was only as he pushed through the double doors that she caught up. In fact, he stopped so sharply that she bumped into the back of him.

  
'Thanks for that, mate,' she muttered as she pushed the door beside him with her shoulder and came beside him. To begin with, she turned her back on the room at large. She figured his abrupt stop was due to mental strain - things becoming too much to walk and think and flee all in one moment. 'Look,' she began, 'this dying business is pretty crap, don't get me wrong.'

  
It was as she finished her sentence that she realised Raf wasn't looking at her, he was looking over her shoulder. As she opened her mouth to speak again, she casually turned her head to see what it was. When she did, the words in her throat dried up and refused to leave her mouth.

  
Jac, bloody and prone, lying on the table. Jasmine blinked. Could it be that whilst she was here with Raf, Tricia and Maddy and the others had greeted Jac in the afterlife? She certainly didn't look good right then and Jasmine felt her stomach drop out.

  
Fixed to the spot, head turned, Jasmine didn't know what to do. Sure, she had come with Raf on the hope of discovering what had happened to her sister, good or bad. But-- but every time she had thought about it, it was only the good she allowed through. She had accompanied Raf so she could find out Jac was fine, put her mind at rest. But this wasn't the good, this was the bad. And she had no idea what to do. She knew she couldn't help Jac, she was in the afterlife, wasn't she? Jasmine was dead. Who knew, Jac might be joining her far sooner than she had ever hoped.

  
Raf was the one who eventually spoke first.

  
'We should go,' he said.

  
Jasmine still couldn't tear her eyes away. 'What sort of fucking madman comes into a hospital and shoots people!'

  
Raf chose to stay silent. Jasmine didn't mind, the words weren't for him. They weren't for anyone really, because they was no answer. What sort of idiot puts a scalpel in their pocket - and what sort of madman shoots up a place where the sick are supposed to be healed? Jasmine didn't have a clue because there was no answer, not to either of the questions.

  
She turned away sharply. 'Essie,' she said. 'Your wife. We should look for her.'

 

* * *

They found Essie before they found anyone else. Jasmine left Raf to watch alone. It was a private moment, the equivalent she had yet to reach in her own story. She never had the courage to track down her sister in the aftermath of her own death, but she knew that if she ever had, she would have liked to be alone.

  
She told Raf she would be back soon, but she wasn't sure he was listening. Anyway, Jasmine knew where she would find him - here, with Essie, no matter what.

Jasmine knew it would be hard to get him back through the door, but she had to.

  
Whilst she waited for him to face what he had left behind, she stumbled through the empty hospital. Somehow, without quite realising it - her head empty of thought, the key still cool in her hand - she ended up, back flushed to a glass window. If she just kept walking, she thought, she could walk out of the hospital, to her home, to Morven and a cup of tea, to late night TV and giggling. She smiled sadly to herself. It was just as substantial as a dream now, so far away she could never touch it again. She was dead. Jasmine Burrows was dead!

  
She knew she was near the theatres, but there was a part of her that seemed unable to turn, to face what she might find inside. It didn't help that she had been here recently, her own death recorded in one of these rooms. What she would find inside she wasn't sure she could face. She took a deep breath, pushed open the door.

  
The first thing she saw was Morven. It took her breath away. Jasmine had seen her friend through her own door, the grief clear and obvious. She had lived that moment again and again, sitting next to her on the floor of the hospital corridor as she wept, wanting to reach out a hand and knowing she couldn't. This was a new moment, at a distance to that. And here Morven was, alive and breathing and so clearly not dying. It helped Jasmine put Jac - oh Jac - out of her head for a moment.

  
Only of course, until she turned and saw the patient on the table, saw past the blood bandages and the swelling, the tubes, and saw who it was.

  
Oh god, she thought Jac had been the only one and that was bad enough. Now here she was, face to face with someone else she had known when she had been living, watching as their life went the way of the fading sun, the way she had. She just hoped to god it wouldn't end up the same, that they could be saved.

  
Oliver Valentine lay on the operating table and Jasmine knew it had been a bad decision to come with Raf.

 


	9. a key in the hand is worth two in the bush

_a key in the hand is worth two in the bush_

* * *

He looked as pale as a ghost (wait - which one of them was the ghost? her, or Ollie, bloodied and battered and seemingly clinging to life?). Jasmine blinked twice and yet there it still was. She didn't know what she'd expected but Ollie was still on the table, Morven was still standing near to her. How was this real life? First she had died and now this? How was this right? They were just doctors, going about their normal lives. No one deserved this.

  
Jasmine turned away before anything else could happen (or anyone else could spontaneously combust, she wouldn't put anything past this hospital anymore). She walked without thinking. Back through the theatre doorway and towards where she had left Raf not very long before. She felt numb, far more like the ghost she truly was than she had felt at any point since her death.

  
She found him a few steps away from where she had last seen him. He looked as if he had been crying but there was something else, something she felt was reflected in her own face. A numbness, an inability to take in quite what was happening. As she came up beside him, watching his wife being comforted in the staffroom, he began to sink towards the floor. She slipped next to him, backs against the wall, knees tucked up to their chins.

  
'There's a woman in there,' Jasmine said, gesturing with her head back towards the lift, and the door they had come through. 'Maddy. I watched her bleeding out in the Keller toilets. And Tricia, you know - the motherly one?' Raf nodded, silently. 'Chrissie Williams' mum. Got the all clear from breast cancer to die in a car crash the next day.'

  
Raf had reacted when she had said Chrissie's name, only for Jasmine to realise the two might have worked at the hospital at the same time, perhaps even known each other. Or, perhaps, like her, Raf knew the gossip. 'Ollie Valentine's sister, too, and Arthur Digby. There’s that grumpy Scottish guy who was smashed over the head with a bottle in the hospital grounds - he reminds me a little of you, you know. And there’s a woman whose car was hit by a train and they still don't know if she meant it.' She paused, looked up at him. 'Me - you.'

She turned to face him, remembering the key that had appeared in her hand as she had watched Raf die. She knew now what it was the key for. She was clear, too, why it had appeared at that particular moment.

  
'We're all dead, Raf.' He scrunched up his eyes and she could see that he was fighting back tears. 'And them, right there - they're all alive. They get to live. What a wonderful thing, right?’

  
She lead him silently back through the hospital towards the lift. In her head, she spent the time coming up with the best way to tell Penny Valentine her brother had been shot in the head. As they clambered back through the door, world-weary, she had realise there was no best way to do it.

  
Maddy was waiting for them when they came back through, leaning up against the wall. She looked cool as anything but there was a soft glint in her eye that told Jasmine she really cared that they had made it back in one piece.

'You okay?' she said, quietly, as they watched Raf walk off down the corridor.

  
'Will be,' Jasmine replied.

 

'Where's Penny?' she said.

  
'Penny?' Maddy said, raising an eyebrow. 'Why?'

  
'Got some news,' Jasmine said, face set. Maddy seemed to realise the implications of the word and lead the way towards the operating theatre. One that looked suspiciously like the one Jasmine had just come from, minus the living people. And of course this had to be where it happened. It seemed even in the afterlife fate had a wicked sense of humour.

  
She realised as she went through the doors and saw Penny, sitting deep in conversation with Tricia, that she had been using this moment as an excuse to really understand what she had seen.

She had liked Ollie, seen a future in their relationship (but of course, only she had). He was a good man, she knew that at least. And now there was a bullet in his brain. She closed her eyes, pretended not to feel the wave of concern that rippled over her.

  
And it wasn’t just Ollie she’d refused to think about. There was Jac, bleeding on that basement table, in pain and alone. There was a black pit in stomach at the mere thought that Jac could soon be following in Raf's footsteps in this crazy world. Not Jac. One of them had to be left behind.

  
Jasmine took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Maddy had melted away, muttering about checking up on the new arrival as she went. There was still Tricia there though, and the presence of the other woman made Jasmine hesitant. But it was Tricia who first noticed her in the doorway.

  
'How was it?' she asked, grimacing.

  
Jasmine shook her head, words sticking in her throat. A few seconds elapsed and that was when both Penny and Tricia realised there was more than just a simple accidental meeting to this moment.

  
'Jasmine?' Tricia said.

  
'It's Ollie.'

  
She wasn't looking at Tricia, in fact was looking past her, straight at Penny, who had clearly thought that she wasn't meant to be the focus of this conversation. She had grown to like the other Valentine, but it didn't make this conversation any easier. She had been a doctor once, delivering news like this had been commonplace, but there wasn't much call for it in the afterlife.  
Jasmine watched Penny closely.

She didn't seem to outwardly react, but Jasmine saw the muscles in her face, around her eyes, tense and then relax, the jaw flexing slightly. The micro-expressions of shock, Jasmine was sure they could have been seen in her own face when she had stumbled upon that table.

  
'Ollie?' Penny said, almost casually, allowing no weight into her words, almost as if she put strain into them, it would make the outcome far worse. Jasmine took a breath, held the key in her hand for comfort. It was time to explain.

 


	10. life goes on

_life goes on_

* * *

 

Penny laughed. Jasmine was not expecting it. She had spent the last few minutes explaining what had happened when she and Raf had gone through the door.

  
'Oh Ollie,' Penny said, once the laughter had stopped. There was a shimmer in her eyes that betrayed what was behind the words. 'Always one to play the hero. He was playing the hero, right?'

  
Jasmine shrugged. Penny rocked back a little, resting her back on the wall. 'My little brother,' she said, shaking her head. Tricia reached out a hand and placed it on top of Penny's.

  
'He's made of tough stuff,' Jasmine said. She thought about her life, about the place Ollie fitted into. She thought about the year she had spent in Holby, her time with Jac. She thought about her death, and how inextricably linked it was to her decision to take her place at that particular hospital. It had been the end of a long journey with one final goal - to meet and to know her sister.

  
Now, on the other side (quite literally) of that, she thought about what she had gained. She knew Jac, yes. Had been rejected by her. Jasmine thought perhaps given time they might have become friends, in the end. Her death had brought that to a close.

She still wouldn't have changed it. Alongside Jac, there had been Ollie, who had made her happy for a while. And Morven. Oh she had been such a wonderful friend.

She thought about Penny. Jasmine was cut up at the idea of Jac's possible demise, but she had only known her sister as an adult. Penny had grown up with her brother, they'd been inseparable.

That was a bond not easily broken, Jasmine knew that at least. It would be so much worse for her. She had the childhood memories, the daft little connection that siblings had and that Jasmine lacked. Her own childhood had been less than rosy, and as such she spent as little time there in her memories as possible. Penny had had a good childhood, all things considered, with a brother who loved her. Ollie hadn't spoken of her often, but Jasmine knew that you didn't get over something like that. And now it might be Penny's turn.

  
'Oh that he is,' Penny said. She laughed again, but Jasmine could hear the fear behind it, the pain it masked. 'Oh Ollie.'

* * *

  
Jasmine left Tricia to comfort Penny and headed back to the staffroom. Before she reached it, she spotted Diane, hovering by the door. She was looking through the glass, watching as Linden struggled to cheer up Raf, who head was still clearly stuck through the door with Essie.

  
'Hey,' Jasmine said, quietly. She wasn't sure why she hadn't just said hi and pushed through the doors into the room. She could see Maddy, curled up in a chair, offering the occasional bits of advice, just like Arthur sitting next to her. But Jasmine didn't, she remained beside Diane in the doorway. 'You said on the other side of that door,' she began, 'that you see life goes on. What does that mean?'

  
Diane turned to her slowly. 'You got the key, didn't you?'

  
Jasmine looked down at her hand, opened it slowly, so that she and Diane could both see it lying across her palm.

  
'You accepted it then?' Diane asked.

  
'I guess I did.' Jasmine paused, looked down at the key again. 'Maddy, Tricia, Arthur - none of them have done it yet.'

  
'No, they haven't,' Diane said, eyes back on the group through the glass.

  
'Why?'

  
Diane turned to her. 'They're still waiting for someone. Tricia - there's her husband, her daughter. I mean Chrissie and I never saw eye to eye but she's still Tricia's daughter. And there's still a part of her that's waiting for a reprieve, a final moment with them.'

  
'Maddy?'

  
'There was a man. Dan Clifford. A man more in love with himself than anyone else. But Maddy adored him. Has she told you about her perfect day?'

  
Jasmine nodded.

  
'He came back for her. And she's still waiting.'

  
'And Arthur's wants Morven.'

Diane nodded.

  
'Linden doesn't talk about it, but we all know there was a woman. And Penny's waiting for her brother to come and tell her that she's still got a future,' Diane explained.

  
'And I've got no one. That's why it's easier,' Jasmine said, finally understanding. 'But what about you? Maddy, she said you and Ric Griffin-'

  
Diane cut her off. 'My car got hit by a train. I was ready for that door before I even got here.' She paused, laughed humourlessly. 'And Ric? Oh I loved him. But some things don't work.'

  
'I'm sorry,' Jasmine said.

  
'Don't be.' Diane shook her head. 'The door, it helps you to understand life goes on. Ric, he got to be happy again and that's enough for me.'

  
'Is it really?'

  
Diane smiled sadly. 'Go to the door, Jasmine. And when you're back, come and see me. You'll want to say there forever, but you'll see this place differently when you come back. Life goes on.'

  
Jasmine smiled as she turned away.

* * *

  
She stood in front of the door. She wondered what she would find on the other side. She figured Diane had seen Ric, had seen him in the future being happy once more. What would she see, given she had no terrible love affair in her lifetime?

  
As she put the key into the lock, she finally understood.

  
Who would be waiting for her?

  
Jac, of course.

* * *

  
When she came back, she found Diane as she had asked. She was in the staffroom. Maddy had come up to her as she'd come in and asked where she had been, but Jasmine had waved her off for the moment. She thought about the man Maddy was still waiting for, even if she didn't realise. If Maddy ever got to go through that door, Jasmine knew who she would find on the other side.

  
Diane smiled at her as she sat down.

  
'Do you understand now?' Diane asked.

  
'Life goes on,' Jasmine said. 'And so does the afterlife.'

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be every day :)


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